


Redacted

by Plant_Mother



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Gavin Reed, Chloe used to be a real person, Cole is alive????, Gavin Reed Redemption, Gavin is actually a robot, Multi, Post-Battle for Detroit (Detroit: Become Human), Wow, its just a big old government conspiracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-06-30 08:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15748413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plant_Mother/pseuds/Plant_Mother
Summary: The revolution is over, but there are still mysteries to be solved. Cyberlife was a huge corporation and a buissiness that big is bound to have secrets. A month after the revolution, the web of lies the corporation has strung behind to unravel.An android that believes they’re human.A child whose life has been stolen and repurposed.A woman whose past has been erased.





	1. Missing

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, this is just a crack fic of all the conspiracies I’ve seen about Cyberlife. Otherwise known as ‘I can’t name chapters to same my damn life’

Everyone knew Elijah Kamski was a madman. Crazy, odd in his head. But no one would ever say he was unintelligent. Even his craziest ideas had some practical application, even if the higher-ups in the company didn’t want to admit it. 

**December 23rd, REDACTED~**

“Your drink, Mr. Kamski.” Elijah looked up from his papers at the soft-spoken blonde woman in front of him. 

“Thank you Chloe. Could you put it down here?” She nodded, setting the thin-stemmed glass of whine down. She didn’t leave immediately, though. Her pale skin glowed in the dim light as she stared out the window at the bitter snow. Her brows were furrowed in contemplation.

“May I ask what you are working on?” She inquired, glancing down at his hands. 

“Hm?” He mumbled distractedly. “Oh, this? I can’t rightly say. I don’t really know.” He swept it off the side of his desk and into the trash can. “It’s not important.”

“Than you really shouldn’t work so hard on it, Mr. Kamski.”

“I’ve told you to call me Elijah.” He replied, pushing himself up to stand next to the woman.

“Of course, _Elijah_. You should take a break.” Kamski glanced back at the woman to see she was smiling softly. 

“Of course, Chloe. What would I do without you.” He murmured, amused. He stood up and leisurely padded out of the room. Chloe stayed, standing by his desk even as he left the room, staring out at the swirling snow. After a moment of deliberation, she crouched down next to the trash can, and picked up the paper he’d been working on. 

Now Chloe had a more artistically inclined mind, (not that she believed anyone with a sane mind could understand Kamski’s ramblings) but from what she could see…this diagram didn’t seem to be nothing. It was _something._ Something…very, very wrong.

Chloe’s hands tightened around the paper, as she resisted the urge to call out to Mr. Kamski ( _Elijah_ ). She suddenly got the feeling that every child got when they were doing something that they knew their parent wouldn’t approve of. These strange blueprints weren’t for her eyes, and they chilled her to her very core. If these truly weren’t important, as Elijah had said, than she needed to destroy them. She crumbled them up in the palm of her hand, as small as they would go, regretting that her dress didn’t have pockets. She knew it was an impulsive decision she was making, but she’d never been one to think things out. Clenching her fists by her sides, she walked quickly out of the study. And bumped immediately into Elijah. “M-mr. Kamski!” She yelped, hating how her voice caught. She straightened herself, trying to look a little less guilty. “Elijah.” He corrected. “I just need to grab something from the study.” He said, lightly, breezing past her. Chloe’s eyes followed him as he left, a sinking feeling in her stomach. She needed to move, but her legs were frozen. Suddenly, from the study, Elijah’s voice rang out. “Chloe, could you come in here? We need to talk.” 

**February 10th, 2039~**

“What?” 

“I said, you can stay in Cole’s old room. Hank said, waving his hand flippantly at the android as if the gesture meant nothing. “I’m getting kind of tired of you staying on the couch anyway. It freaks me out.”

“Hank, I don’t think you’re thinking this through, I mean-“

“Kid.” Hank said, interrupting Connor. “Trust me, it’s fine. I’ve thought it through. A lot.” 

“…okay. If that’s what you think is best.”

“It is.” 

Cole’s old room had an air of melancholy disuse to it. It was obvious that no one had been there for a long while. The wood paneled walls were a drab, sun-washed gray and a sheen of dust seemed to cover everything, even the small bed in the corner and the crumpled paper drawings hung on the wall. Connor felt a sinking feeling come over him, and he catalogued it as sadness. Hank clearly couldn’t bear to enter his son’s old room, and the thought of Hank in pain made Connor particularly uncomfortable.

Shaking off the emotion, (which was very difficult to do, in fact he’d wager to say it didn’t really leave him,) he took inventory of what he’d need to do to clean the room. Hank had offered of course, but Connor had politely declined his offer. The man didn’t need anymore reminders of things he’d lost. 

The child’s drawings on the wall fascinated Connor, and he figured studying them would be a good goal to finish cleaning faster.

**March 1st, 2039~**

“What do you mean, Detective Reed hasn’t come into work for a _week?!_ Why did no one think to tell me?!” Fowler cried in frustration. Chris stepped behind Tina weakly.

“I mean, if we’re being honest no one really cared to notice.” Tina said, running a finger under her nail. 

“Well, do you guys know where he is?” Fowler groaned in frustration. 

“Uh, yes. I texted him last night.” Chris spoke up. “He’s fine.” 

“Well, tell him he’d better get his ass into work or else he’s fired.” The two police offers nodded and headed out of Fowler’s glass office. Other workers in the precinct gave them strange looks, having seen the argument through the walls, but otherwise no one really said anything.

“This isn’t like him.” Chris mused. “He cares way to much about his job to take so much time off.” Tina could tell he was actually worried about that jerk, but still…

“We both know that.” Tina muttered, rolling her eye. Chris gave her a pointed look. “We’re like…the closest thing he has to actual friends…” “No, we are not going to check on him.” Chris crossed his arms. “ _Come on_ , it date night.” Chris still glared. For a moment the two were caught in their silent stand off befor Tina sighed, resigned, realizing the sooner they finished, the sooner she could see her girlfriend. “Leslie’s gonna be so pissed. Alright, let’s go.” Chris shot her a huge smile. “See? We are good friends!” “We’re _not_ his friends.” Tina grumbled, following Chris out of the precinct with the stormy air befitting of someone who’d just been offered a death scentence.


	2. Theory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a bit of language in this one. But, you know, it’s Gavin so that’s to be expected.

**February 23rd, 2039~**

_Have you ever seen yourself bleed?_

A very simple question, but sitting on the floor of the restroom, Gavin suddenly couldn’t remember. He wanted to say ‘yes of course, what kind of dumbass question is that?’ But he couldn’t. He couldn’t and it scared him because sitting on the floor of the evidence room he was surrounded by-by- his mind couldn’t even process it. His hands were dripping with blood that _couldn’t_ be his because he wasn’t- _wasn't-wasn’t-_

Gavin’s movements were slow and clunky, as he stood, walking numbly to the sink, leaning over the edge and washing the blood off. Fighting the urge to vomit as the blood swirled down the sink. Trying to make his brain wrap around the impossible; and it was impossible because the blood that swirled into the drain was _blue._

Gavin’s parents weren’t overprotective, he’d gotten into fights as a kid. Everyone did, they all got bruises and scratched knees and black eyes, that was just part of growing up. And as he got older he joined the police force _(as a detective, not as dangerous as a police officer why-why-why-)_ And of course he’d gotten into scuffles with people and he’d fought but the harder he tried to remember, the more he couldn’t remember if he’d ever actually drawn blood in one of those altercations. Gavin stared at the window, stared and stared, almost convincing himself that what he had seen _(what he was)_ was some weird fever dream. He had been drinking a lot lately. (Did alchohol cause hallucinations? _he didn’t know-he didn’t know-he didn’t know-_ There had to be something going on because Gavin Reed was a lot of things (an asshole, ambitious, and insensitive prick) but an _android_ wasn’t one of them. 

**February 25th, 2039~**

Gavin sat at his couch, lazily rubbing his cat’s ears. He hadn’t been to work in almost a week, and was starting to think he wasn’t going to ever go back again. His brain felt like mush, probably the effect of having an almost week long panic attack, and he still hadn’t gotten up the courage to check if what he’d seen at the precinct was just some sort of crazy hallucination. His brain couldn’t even seem to form the word ( _android-android-android-robot-freak-_ ) He laughed, bitterly. What a coward. 

Chris had texted him earlier that day and in a panic he _actually responded._ Some random bullshit about a bad hangover and just wanting to take a few days off. He shouldn’t have said anything; sooner or later he’d have to check for himself. 

His cat mewled pitifully and he realized he’d stopped petting her. “Sorry, kiddo.” He mumbled absentmindedly. The cat gave a contented purr, settling into his lap. 

**March 1st, 2039~**

Gavin’s hands tightened around the knife. Was he really going to stab himself to prove a point? He mentally corrected himself, he was going to _prick his finger_ , but still, he felt nauseous. 

His own hand seemed to mock him. Tremblinga little with nerves, very clearly _human_ , he could see the red flush in his fingers. He didn’t need to do this, he could just…go back to work and pretend nothing happened. It was so tempting…

No. One way or another he was ending this now. He raised the knife and-

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! GAVIN PUT THAT FUCKING KNIFE DOWN!” Suddenly someone was grabbing his arm, forcing him onto his sofa, a heavy weight hit his jaw. Panicked, he writhed away. The attacker grabbed his arms, forcing them to his sides. His mind desperately spun. No one had the key to his apartment-no one except… _Chris?_ yes he’d given Chris the key when he was watching his cats…

With that revelation, everything seemed clearer. He managed to look up, and there were Chris and Tina, still in their work uniforms, looking absolutely scandalized. Chris, holding Gavin’s arms down and Tina holding the knife out of reach.

“Why-the-fuck are you in my house?” He grunted, pushing Chris away.

“We were going to check on you!” Tina said, voice shrilled than usual. “And apparently we were right to do so! Holy shit!”

“Gavin, do you need help? Like, _help_ help?“ Chris demanded.

“What? No?! What? Why would you think that?! I mean, you just punched me in the mouth, shit.” Gavin exclaimed, head still spinning with exhaustion, hand clenched over his aching lip.

“Uh, I don’t know! Maybe cause we walked in on you _attempting to stab yourself!!!_ ”

“Ooooh.” Gavin whispered, realization dawning on him. “Shit.” It was either tell the truth or have these two tell Fowler he was fucking suicidal. “Ok, look. It’s not…a big deal. But at the precinct, on Monday, I thought I saw…something. I was probably really high. I was just…testing it.” 

“By stabbing yourself?” Chris said, in disbelief. “What could you possibly be trying to learn by _stabbing yourself?_ “

“Okay. You know what? I wasn’t trying to stab myself so can you two calm the fuck down?” 

“Well, what were you trying to do?” Tina said.

“Tina, please stop waving the knife around.” Chris said weakly. But Tina didn’t reply. 

“What up?” Chris asked worriedly. Tina raised a trembling finger to Gavin’s mouth. Gavin realized with a start he’d let his hand drop and warm, metallic blood was dripping down his chin. He looked down at his hand. 

It was blue.

**February 10th, 2039~**

Connor had cleaned out Cole’s room, but left the pictures. He actually was quite fond of the child’s scribbles. Human creativity never failed to amaze him, even as children. 

One in particular had caught his eye, as he was cleaning. Two stick figures in front of a house. One was clearly meant to be Hank, with his beard and grumpy expression, but the other was a brown eyed child. It didn’t take many calculations for Connor to guess that was meant to be Cole. Strange though, he could have sworn Cole’s eyes were blue.


	3. Files

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, Connor and Hank’s plot line is supposed to be the main story but I just want to write more about Chloe. Send help.

**March 1st, 2039~**

“Christ, it’s cold out here. This isn’t natural. Goddammit.” Hank grumbled, rubbing his frozen fingers together. Connor chuckled, good-naturedly and patted the lieutenant on the back. 

“I don’t believe that many cuss words were necessary, Hank.” He replied.

“I’ll swear as much as I god-damn please. Damn. Shit. Fuck. It’s cold.” 

“‘Scuse me, coming trough!” Connor and Hank turned to see a familiar pair of police officers heading from the precinct. The pair appeared to be in a hurry. 

“Hello Tina, Chris.” Connor nodded.

“Sup?” Hank said, looking half asleep. 

“Oh, hey!” Chris replied happily, but Tina grabbed his arm and marched on.

“See y’all later, we’re off to be good people!” She cried, waving her hand as they sprinted to her car.

“They’re…interesting.” Connor said, smiling slightly. “Is that…normal human behavior?” 

“No. Not at all, but Chris and Tina are not normal.” Hank said, shrugging. “They’re fine I guess so if you go picking up habits from them, I guess I won’t be too mad.” He headed inside the precinct, leaving Connor with a bemused grin on his face.

The precinct was quiet, with a subdued air. Detectives and police officers sat hunched over their computers clacking away, (or in the case of the few android workers there, interfacing with their computers.) it took Connor a moment to realize why it was so quiet. Gavin, Tina and Chris were gone. The three of them tended to make the most noise in the precinct and it was not unwelcome that there was some peace and quiet…simply strange. 

“So.” Hank began as they took a seat at their joint desks. “Anything interesting?” Connor raised his hand, letting the synthetic skin pull back. Slowly he interfaces with the computer. Almost instantaneously, his mind was flooded with reports, cases, and endless streams of data. It took him a few seconds to sort through them according to what Hank would consider ‘the most interesting.’

“Ah, there’s a missing person report from back in 2021.” 

“Aw, come on. That’s been there forever.” Hank groaned. “Pretty sure that’s been taken over by those pricks at the FBI anyway. Next.” Connor looked closer at it, indeed it had been taken over by the FBI. He smiled slightly. Hank was better at his job than he liked to admit. 

“An RT600 model is demanding vengeance for some shady papers she found in her previous owners home.” 

“Eh, that’s a legal matter. Next.” 

“I think you’ll like this one; a man found a previously unknown bunker under his house that contains clues to nefarious corporate activities. They need a couple of detectives to check it out.” 

“Now you’re talking.” Hank said with a smile. “Send me the report, we’ll get started.”

**March 1st, 2039~**

Chloe fiddled with her own hands more than she would like to admit. As she sat in the waiting room of the DPD, she wrung her hands and stared at her bouncing knee. Becoming a deviant seemed to be synonymous with becoming fidgety.

“Miss…Chloe?” The receptionist called. Chloe stood up with a start, LED cycling yellow with surprise. No one seemed quite sure what to do with androids who didn’t keep their former owners last names, so at the moment she was just…Chloe. When she saw that no one else stood up, she took a few unsteady steps towards the desk. 

The receptionist gave her an easy smile and motioned back to the precinct. 

“Someone will meet with you there.”

“Thank you.” Chloe managed, feeling like she was speaking around a ball of cotton, fighting the feeling that she really wasn’t supposed to be there. 

**February 28th, 2039~**

“Why are you still here?” He asked, tiredly, rubbing his forehead. They stood together, overlooking the window and the bitter cold beyond.

“What-what do you mean, Elijah?” 

“I mean, all the other RT600s left. They have their own lives. Why are _you_ still here?” He sounded so tired. Chloe watched him, LED spinning furiously as he leaned forward to take a sip of his tea. 

“Elijah, your tea has whiskey in it, I don’t think-“

“You’re avoiding the question.” 

“I-“ her voice processor seemed to freeze. She swallowed hard, an unnecessary act but a comforting one, and forced herself to continue. “I have nowhere else to go.” Elijah tensed at that, but she barreled on. “I mean, we’re all deviants with diffeeent personalities and all, right? All the other Chloe’s have different dreams and plans and I-I just…don’t.” Elijah stared at her out of the corner of his eye for a long while before waving his hand dismissively. 

“Stay as long as you like. It’s my fault you exist anyway.” Chloe was terribly offended by this but at the same time felt that she couldn’t be offended by it, since it was technically true. 

Later that night, when Elijah had gone to sleep, Chloe found herself in an empty mansion, completely alone. Usually this wasn’t a problem, she’d just go into stasis but she was fully charged, and damn it all, she was _bored_. She figured as long as she was going to stay here she might as well be useful. 

She recognized the irony of feeling the need to justify her stay at Kamski’s home by cleaning of all things, but there wasn’t much else she could think of to do. And it became a sort of game, seeing how quietly she could organize a cabinet or dust a stove top. 

The problem came when she got to the file room. An endless expanse of dark rows, papers and papers and papers.

“Well, this should keep me busy for the rest of the night.” Chloe murmured, and than stopped talking because she realized that talking to herself in an empty room definitely made her sound crazy. She padded forward to the ‘A’ section. ‘Advertising, Androids, Adventures (Buissiness)’ all spastically named and nothing less than what she would expect from Elijah Kamski of all people. 

She was halfway through attempting to organize the ‘advertizing’ section when she gave up. It was all just a bunch of…well, useless information from Cyberlife back in the day. Maybe it didn’t need to be organized. She rolled her eyes as she realized this was probably Elihah’s method. She decided than that she was just going to look for something interesting.

First thing, she wanted to find something on her. She checked under RT, which was what Elijah often referred to her as, but it was also filled with stuff she _already knew._ So she moved on to her other guess, a file under ‘Chloe’. And that was when she found something that was certainly worth her interest. 

The file had clearly been locked, but the lock had been used so many times it seemed to have rusted away. A good jerk allowed it to open fully. Inside the file cabinet, instead of data and folders she found what seemed to be more of a group of old books than anything else. They were all about three inches thick, and each had a cover of a different fabric. Chloe picked up the one on top with the blue cover and flipped to a random page. It was a picture of two young children, arms around each other and smiling brightly. A family photo album? But why would that be filed under Chloe?

She prepared to flip to another page when a paper slipped out. Confused, she flipped it over.

**Job Application for < REDACTED >:**

**Name:** Chloe Macintyre  
**Age:** 23  
**Gender:** Female  
**Other information: < REDACTED >**

Chloe nearly dropped the paper, because she was staring back at herself. A smiling picture of herself with an arm casually strung over Elijah’s shoulder, without her LED.


	4. Search

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know how being a detective works pls don’t judge (;-;)

**March 1st, 2039~**

The swarm of police cars around the poor man’s house had lessened a bit, when Hank and Connor were put on the case. Connor assumed the man was probably wishing he’d never found the damn place at this point. The man in question was Harold Clark, a 60 year old widower with graying hair and a jovial face. From the research Connor did on him, he was a retired plumber with no children and no pets. He’d found the bunker when, after moving into his new house, his sink had mysteriously stopped working and he’d gone down to the crawl space to fix it. One look at the huge, cavernous space, however, had send him running to the police. 

It was unlikely that he was a suspect as he was the one who had come forward with the information, but even so, the most he could get in trouble for at the moment was breaking some zoning laws. When Connor and Hank questioned the poor man, he really seemed oblivious.

“I’m telling you, I just moved into this house, and then I went to wash my hands and the sink exploded!” Harold waved his hands for emphasis. 

“That’s unfortunate.” Connor sympathized. “Did anything when you were buying the house alude to extra basement space?” 

“Nope. It was hard to get to as well, a little trapdoor under the crawl space.” 

“Do you mind if we check it out?” Hank asked, in the most polite voice Connor had ever heard him use.

“That’s why I called y’all, ain’t it?”

“I suppose so.” Connor chuckled. “Let’s go, Hank.” 

Together the two of them descended into the crawl space, ducking under the rows of police tape. A quick scan showed the entrance to the bunker to be a scuffed metal panel, covered in dirt about 3 feet by 3 feet. The hinges were very degraded, possibly showing repeated use? Further scan showed evidence of handprints but they were too old to get any accurate readings. Clearly no one had come through this way in a long time.

However, despite its age, Hank was easily able to open it, though the metal squared and groaned in protest. The panel led to an ominous looking black hole with a single rickety ladder. Once again, the metal was eroded where someone had clearly climbed up and down often. 

“Think you can climb down there on your own?” Connor teased. Hank flipped him off and went first. The climb down was shorter than expected, it seemed it only looked so high because it was dark. It was only around five feet down.

“Well, it’s already been cleared out by police officers so there shouldn’t be anyone waiting in the shadows to shank us.” Hank said, fiddling with an old flashlight and giving a triumphant ‘aha!’ When it flickered on. 

“Still, this area is old so we should be careful to watch out for sinkholes and uneven flooring.” Connor admonished as the two headed deeper into the cavern. Hank’s flashlight only really made a pathetic little pool of light but it was enough to see that this was some sort of workshop. Connor took a circuit around the cavern and deduced that it spread under about half of the house and didn’t contain any doors that lead to other sections. 

“Alright so it’s just this room? Let’s look around than.” Hank decided when Connor shared his diagnostics of the room. As Hank went to go look at the finer details, Connor made another scan.

In the middle of the room, there seemed to be some sort of operating table and directly in front of that, a large cork board with lots of papers and scribbles on it. To the left was a desk and a very old 21st century-era computer and to the right was a huge metal cabinet. Connor decided to look into that first. 

The cabinet was made of steel, with a handle. There was no lock and Connor was able to open it with relative ease, despite the loud squeal the old metal hinges made. Inside there were three shelves, each crammed with old cardboard boxes. The boxes had peeling tape inscribed with labels like ‘gears’ and ‘copper wires.’ All the boxes seemed to have some sort of connection to machinery, further enforcing Connor’s assumption that this was a type of workshop. 

Next he moved to the cork board. The papers on it were yellowed and scribbled on in a very confusing manner. Whoever, it was clear whoever had written on the boxes had also written on this cork board. Connor didn’t even need to analyze the subtleties to see that. However, one problem he noticed was that the handwriting was _atrocious_. All the words were crammed together and it was hard for him to even pick out individual words. They appeared to be notes on whatever machines this person had been building, but beyond that Connor was stumped. 

“Holy shit, check this out.” Hank said, either excitement of trepidation obvious in his voice. Connor left the board and headed over to the old computer where Hank was leafing through the files left on the desk. Connor peered over his shoulder and saw what Hank was looking at. Diagrams of some sort for… _androids._ And in Hanks hand…a poorly scribbledpencil drawing of the Cyberlife logo.

“So this is…Cyberlife’s property?” Connor asked. He was slightly confused because there drawings of androids were wrong. The thirium pump was in the wrong place and they appeared to have much less processing power than even the most basic android model. 

“If it is, they gotta fire whoever drew the logo. It looks like an egg.” Hank shrugged.

“Perhaps we should look at the computer, it might offer some information.”

“Already tried, it’s locked with a password.” Hank shrugged. Connor glanced at him exhasperatedly. “Oooh. Yeah sometimes I forget you can do that thing.” 

Connor let the synthetic skin of his hand peel back, bathing the two of them in the cold, blue glow pudding from his joints. At first, Connor had been embarrassed to show anyone this, feeling it made him…less than in some way. It was only with Hank’s help that he realized it didn’t make him any less alive. 

He pressed his hand to the screen, letting the contents of the computer enter his mind. It was locked, yes, but it was a very old system and Connor’s AI was far superior to that of the computer’s. In a few seconds, the screen blinked open to the home page. It was a plain blue background, with folders lining the side. Connor scanned through them almost instantly and saw to his dismay, they were all the same blueprints as the ones that Hank had found. He mentally stored them away to review for later.

“Just blueprints.” Connor said with a shrug. “Same as what you already found. We'll need to review them later and write a report for Fowler.” 

“Right, guess we’re done here.” Hank said with a small shrug, heading towards the ladder. Connor followed with a wary glance behind him. That single operating table in the center felt…ominous… _wrong_ …and strangely familiar.

Later that night, Connor was cleaning the dishes from dinner (something Hank vehemently opposed, but Connor enjoyed anyway,) and Hank was watching basketball with Sumo curled up at his heels. In the back of his mind, Connor cycled through the blueprints. They were all similar in that they were…wrong. Each was of an android, but each had something out of place in their wiring. It was just so strange. Connor was so deep in thought he didn’t realize that Hank had been trying to get his attention for the past few minutes.

“Sorry Hank! What did you say?” Connor asked, gently placing the dishes back in the sink. 

“I _said_ it’s almost twelve, and we have work tomorrow. You need to get some sleep or whatever it is you Androids do. Jesus, you’re going to be the death of me.” Connor realized with a start just how tired he really was and smiled softly.

“Alright, Hank, but only if you promise to get some sleep as well. It won’t be helpful to anyone if were both dead on our feet tomorrow.” 

“Yeah yeah, I’ll get to it.” Hank muttered and Connor chuckled, heading to his room.

He still had the drawings up, as he still didn’t really have anything to put in his room besides a few pictures of him and Sumo and some flowers he’d picked up here and there. As he attempted to drift off into stasis, his mind kept spinning, focusing on the blueprints. His eyes sleepily drifted up to Cole’s drawing. There were some similarities, it would seem, between young Cole’s drawing and those blueprints. The same sort of…childish clumsiness. 

He forced himself to stop. There was no way he was going to get any rest if his brain kept going all night. He allowed himself to relax a little more as he drifted of into stasis.

The las thing he thought was that, being in Cole’s soon was comforting. There was a sort of…presence, that made him feel at peace. With that thought, he drifted off into a pleasantly numb stasis, sprawled out on his couch, and didn’t even notice that Sumo had come up to basically sleep on top of him.

Yes, home was comforting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘I need to not post chapters as soon as I finish them so I can have a consistent update schedule.” I say to myself, posting a chapter as soon as I finish it.


	5. Proof

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHoh its me again kiddos
> 
> I’ve got a lotta free time today so you get two chapters hahahah

**March 1st, 2039~**

Gavin didn’t even realize that he’d fainted, but he must have because the next thing he knew, Tina’s face (which was terribly blurry) was hovering in front of him. 

“Gavin? Gavin! Can you hear me?” 

“Ah. Fuck. Yes I can. Please stop screaming.” He groaned, forcing himself to roll over onto his side. 

“So…you gonna explain to us what the hell _this_ is?!” Chris exclaimed, waving his hands around Gavin’s face. 

“What do you want me to say?” Gavin said, tiredly. 

“I…I don’t understand.” Chris said softly. “I mean, you could start by explaining…how. You know? How did you get a job in the DPD when you’re…an-“

“ _Don’t_.” Gavin snarled. “I-sorry. I’m sorry Chris. I’m just as confused as you guys are. Until literally a week ago, I thought…well. I didn’t know anything unusual was happening.” He rubbed his forehead, frustrated. 

“Hey…uh. Don’t freak out. We’re gonna figure something out. You know…androids have rights now so you shouldn’t have any problem going back to work, right?” Tina asked.

“I don’t think I’m gonna go back. I mean, for fuck’s sake. I don’t think I even need to eat.”

“Gavin, come on. Your job is the most important thing to you.” Chris said softly, touching Gavin’s shoulder. “If you go back tomorrow maybe we can talk to Connor. He was one of Cyberlife’s most advanced prototypes, he might know something.” Gavin flinched away from Chris’s hand in disgust.

“Are you serious? There’s no way I’m talking to that plastic asshole.” 

“Well I hate to break it to ya, sweetheart, but you’re plastic too.” Tina said in a no-nonsense tone, crossing her arms and glaring at him down her nose. Evidently that was the wrong thing to say. Gavin turned his back like a petulant child, and picked up his cat. 

“Just leave.” He said softly, hugging the purring feline close. 

“Gavin…” Chris murmured, unwilling to leave his friend in such a fragile state. 

“Come on man. We want answers just as much as you. I’m emotionally invested now.” Tina said, pointing to herself. Gavin was silent for a moment before turning back to them.

“I’ll go back to work tomorrow. But _only_ to find out what sick fuck decided it would be a good idea to make a robot that thinks it’s human. After that I’m leaving.” It was pretty clear that the conversation was over. Tina headed to the door, Chris cast one last desperate glance at Gavin before heading out behind her.

They had just barely left the building when Tina started having her mental breakdown.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” She cried, grabbing Chris’s shoulders. “WHAT?!” 

“Woah, woah. Calm down.” Chris said, trying to placate his hysterical coworker. 

“I’ve seen him eat food before!” Tina cried. “This doesn’t make any sense!” 

“I mean, I agree with you, but…

“How are you so calm?!” Tina cried, running her fingers through her hair and pacing back and forth. 

“Because…actually I don’t know. I should be freaking out? But it won’t help the situation. Look, let’s…let’s just see what happens tomorrow Okay?” 

“Yeah.” Tina said, softly. “Yeah, let’s do that.” 

**March 2nd, 2039~**

Gavin felt like he hadn’t slept in weeks. He felt the strong (albeit slightly irrational) fear that Tina and Chris were going to go straight to some sort of anti-android group and then he’d just be murdered. But he at least trusted that Chris was enough of a bleeding heart not to do that.

On the somewhat bright side, their visit had made him realize he’d been so worried about the ‘what’ of the situation ( _you’re and Android-a freak-shouldn’t exist-shouldn’t-shouldn’t-_ ) And hadn’t even stopped to consider the _why_. The only thing that gave him the courage to walk through the precinct door that morning was the hope that he’d get some answers. 

Tina and Chris were waiting for him and so was the tinman, Connor, in all his robotic glory. Gavin felt…awkward? That was the wrong word. Guilty. Yeah, he felt guilty. Now that he figured he was…an _android_ of some sort anyway,(it was still hard to force himself to think that word) he knew that stupid tin can did have feelings and probably was pretty pissed at Gavin. Scratch that, awkward was a really good word.

“I take it we should speak somewhere more private?” Connor asked the three of them, ever the model of perfect diplomacy. 

“Yeah. Don’t want Fowler to see me, anyway.” Connor smiled a little and led the three of them to the break room. 

“So, what seems to be the issue?” 

“Shit, you didn’t tell him?” Gavin groaned, facepalming. 

“Ah…no?” Chris said looking guilty ( _as he should!_ ) 

“To be honest, we thought he’d get freaked out and run away.” Tina shrugged.

“Okay, I’m feeling a bit lost.” Connor said, smiling in a puzzled, yet polite way. 

“I’ll just show you.” Gavin grumbled. “Can you uh…do that thing with your hand?” 

“Interfacing?” Connor replied, tilting his head. 

“Yeah. Whatever. That.” Connor hesitated, but held up his hand, the synthetic skin gone. Gavin slowly raised his hand, shaking. He didn’t actually know if this would work, if he was even the same type of android as Connor…but sure enough as he placed his palm against Connor’s, his skin melted away all the way up to his forearm, and there it was. Polished white plastic glittering in the harsh light from the break room’s ceiling. And suddenly the light was coming from another source. 

Gavin was standing in a house. But for some reason he knew intuitively that he wasn’t Gavin in this moment…he was Connor. He leaned down to scratch the ears of a huge St. Bernard…and then the scene changed and he was in a garden, gazing at a dignified woman with brown braids in her hair. _I trust you Amanda_. And then he was standing in the break room again but he was staring at himself, demanding coffee and Tina looking bemused…and then-

Connor ripped his hand away breathing heavily. His eyes were wide and almost…angry? Was it anger? Gavin didn’t understand what had just happened. Is that what interfacing was?

No denying it now, no explaining it away. By Connor’s shocked expression and the way he almost instantly jerked his hand away…this was no hallucination, this was real. Gavin stared, mesmerized, as his hand returned to its normal state. “Never…uh, done that before. I’m…sorry?” He whispered, voice hoarse. Connor still hadn’t stood up all the way, cradling his own hand, staring at it as if it didn’t belong to him.

“How-how-how-how-“ he had to close his mouth to stop the strange, glitching words. “Is this some sort of…some sort of ‘prank’?! It’s not funny!”

“No! No, it’s not.” Chris assured. “We’re all just as freaked out as you are, that’s why we came to you, we need your help.” 

“O-ok.” Connor said, seeming to recover some of his sensibilities. “How…how can I help?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for the shippy-bits
> 
> Wooooo no im not


	6. Understanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the plot can get started! Finally!

**March 2nd, 2039~**

“So you’re saying that you really have no idea how this could have happened?” Tina said, looking crestfallen. 

“I’m sorry, but to my knowledge, Cyberlife has never created an android that believes it’s human. The purpose of androids were to serve humans, not blend in with them. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s the exact opposite of what Cyberlife was trying to do. Aside from directly contacting the company, there’s really not much I can do.” Connor said, processors whirring so fast he was afraid of overheating. 

“Yeah, don’t do that. Please.” Chris said.

“I am truly sorry I can’t help you further, but I appreciate your trust in me.” Gavin laughed harshly. 

“Sure. _Trust._ Don’t flatter yourself. I’m gonna go talk to Fowler.” He marched away. 

“Don’t take it personally.” Tina sighed. “He’s freaked out, we all are. But it would be great if you could not tell anyone?” 

“Of course, not until we know for sure what’s going on.” Connor replied seriously. 

“Thanks, Con. You’re the best.” Tina said, waving limply before following Gavin out of the break room. 

“Don’t look at me, I still need to get coffee.” Chris said, raising his hands in a surrendering gesture. Connor smiled softly but it dropped instantly as he returned to his desk, mulling over all he had just learned. It wasn’t a prank, that was clear. He’d felt the thrum of android machinery under Gavin’s skin. ( _Was it possible that Gavin had seen any of his memories? In his shock he hadn’t blocked his mind off in time. Gavin’s must have already been because Connor saw nothing._ ) But the real question (that they were all asking now) was why? He almost wanted to connect this with the strange blueprints he’d found, but it just seemed too convenient. 

“Hey kid. You seem…a million miles away.” Hank said when Connor sat down.

“No, I’m alright. Thank you for your concern.” Connor said a bit too quickly. At Hank’s strange look, Connor ducked his head. “I’ve simply been…preoccupied with the blueprints we’ve found. I actually have a hypothesis.”

“Oh?” 

“I believe these blueprints are examples of early drafts for androids. Much of the technology is less advanced, as well as the Cyberlife logo being significantly different.” Hank thought about that for a second, stroking his chin.

“You might be into something, kid. Still doesn’t understand why Cyberlife would cover up the facility.” 

“Perhaps they were participating in illegal activities.” Connor supplied thoughtfully.

“Maybe, but we don’t have any proof of that. We oughta talk to Kamski, or something. Maybe he’ll know.”

“No!” Connor said, too quickly. For some reason he had thought Hank was talking about telling Kamski about Gavin. He shook his head. Hank didn’t even know about Gavin. He was being irrational. “Sorry, I mean…” But Hank gave him a sympathetic look, no doubt remembering what had happened the last time Connor had seen Kamski, and no doubt attributing Connor’s aversion to the fear that a similar event would occur again.

“Hey, we don’t have to. There’s that RT600 model from yesterday.” Hank pointed out. She was engaged in an adamant conversation with an officer, seemingly trying to convince them of something. “She used to be Kamski’s right? If you don’t want to talk to him, we can talk to her instead.”

“Ok. Thank you Hank. That’s a good idea.” Connor said, with a soft smile. Together the pair walked up to the RT600 and the officer.

“Ah, Hank, thank god.” The officer, whose name was Ryan sighed. “I’m trying to tell her there’s nothing wrong with Kamski having a picture of someone who looks a little like her.”

“Not a little! Exactly like me!” The RT600 cried in frustration, balling her fists in frustration. Ryan gestured to her as if to say ‘ _see? This is what I’ve been dealing with._ ’ 

“We’ll take it from here.” Connor said with a smile.

“Suit yourself.” Ryan shrugged and got up to go work on some other case. The RT600’s eyes widened in recognition as Connor sat down in front of her and Hank joined her. He realized with a start, this was the android Kamski had tried to get him to shoot.

 _The gun trembled in his hand. He had to, his mission. The android’s eyes gazed up at him. Her-no it-it’s eyes looked so…alive, but he…he-_ Couldn’t.

Apparently sparing her had made her favor him because her face split into a big smile. “Hello, Connor! Hi Hank.” 

“Good to see you again, Chloe.” Connor said with a smile. 

“So, Ah…can we ask you a question or two?” Hank asked.

“Um…sure. I suppose.” Chloe said, tilting her head.

“Did Mr. Kamski know about any sort of…I don’t know, underground Cyberlife facilities?” Hann asked. Chloe paused, deep in tought, her LED cycling bright yellow. 

“I believe…there was one. But I don’t know its location, you’ll have to ask Mr. Kamski for that.” Chloe said with a rueful smile.

“Looks like we’ll have to visit him after all.” Hank sighed, in frustration. 

“It’s alright.” Connor said, “In the meantime, we can help Chloe.” 

**March 3rd, 2039~**

It appeared to be harder to get an audience with Mr. Kamski than before, even a year after the revolution, the press was still clamoring for his attention and his schedule was very full.

Connor was sitting on the couch in his room, Sumi curled on his lap, examining the final couple of blueprints, and trying to focus on his work, not Gavin or Chloe. They really did seem to be old models as the longer he reviewed them, the more advanced the technology got. However, there was one phrase that began to crop up that didn’t match any part of an android that Connor recognized.

‘Deceased facial reconstruction.’ 

It was scribbled across the top of every android’s head in the last few blueprints, but was crossed out in heavy market on the final one. 

Puzzled, Connor looked at it closer. It appeared that by scanning parts of an actual human’s face, an android’s could be made to look more convincingly alive. It seemed simple enough, but the word ‘deceased’ left a sour feeling in Connor’s stomach. 

Some irrational part of his mind was beginning to connect things, as he jumped up and ran to the kitchen where Hank was cleaning up dinner. (He hadn’t allowed Connor to do it.)

“Hank, can I ask you a personal question?” Connor asked softly.

“Jesus, kid. We’re practically some messed up kind of family at this point. Ask away.”

“What color were Cole’s eyes?” Hank froze. Connor quickly retracted his question. “I mean, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, I was just-“

“Hazel I think.” Hank said. “They could look blue or brown depending on the lighting. That picture I have, the light made them look so blue. Cole always hated that picture, he insisted he had brown eyes. Gave himself brown eyes in every picture he drew.” Hank chuckled, a sad smile on his face. “If you want to talk about him, that’s okay, Connor.”

“I-thank you Hank. That means a lot.” Connor replied, trying to calm his racing heart. There was something going on here, and Connor was less and less sure that it wasn’t all connected.


	7. Her

**July 10th, < REDACTED >~**

Chloe had been told since she was a young child that she was pretty enough, rich enough, good enough, that she would make her way in the world without fail. 

Endless praise had imprinted on the girl, and though she wasn’t stupid, she wasn’t a particularly hard worker. Fresh out of college, moving back in with her parents, Chloe Macintyre had no goal, no dream, no aim. She supposed she was pretty enough to land a good job, but apparently the amount of money your parents have really means nothing in the professional world. She was truly at her wits end when her mother brought up at dinner that she’d have to find a job in the next month or she was going to be essentially cut of from any money and any support from the Macintyre family. That was when she turned to the newspaper.

The ad was simple enough. ‘Personal Assistant, manage appointments, schedules, and take notes during meetings. Food and board will be provided.’ Chloe might have scoffed at that, who needed someone to organize their schedules for them? But the job payed well, so she applied.

The site of the interview was a nice enough house on a hill. The area was deadly quiet, as if even the birds didn’t want to disturb whoever was in the house. Chloe expected an older individual, someone with a fading memory and graying hair. But when she knocked on the door, it swung open to reaveal a man about her age with thick glasses and hair pulled back into a ponytail.

“Hello, my name is Elijah Kamski. I assume you’re here for the job interview?” 

Kamski was apparently some up and coming architect and was building some sort of AI. Chloe wasn’t terribly interested in that. When he asked her why she wanted the job, she replied simply and honestly,

“Because I have nowhere else to go.”

A week later Elijah called her and told her she got the job. She expected to return to that little house but he informed her that he’d moved to a larger house where he wouldn’t have to be working out of a tiny basement anymore.

**August~**

It was easy enough to avoid Elijah, easy enough to keep a formal distance. The house (which was really more of a mansion) was big enough that she could have her own space, her own life, and still do her job. She insisted on calling him Mr. Kamski. It was easier to pretend like he was still just her boss, when really, she thought of him more as a friend. 

Elijah was a total nerd, interested in old classics such as ‘Frankenstein’ the book, which Chloe found ironic since he was literally making artificial intelligence as he waxed poetic about the cruelty of creating sentient life.

He insisted she read the book, told her she’d probably find it interesting. And she did, sitting next to him on the couch as he read over her shoulder. 

**September~**

Personal assistant didn’t really describe Chloe’s job anymore. As Elijah’s experiments with AI progressed, he often asked her more questions, valuing her more artistic mind. She became more interested in the project, investing more time in it and even doodling up a few logos for the company Elijah was planning to call ‘Cyberlife.’ 

He asked her multiple times to call him Elijah. She insisted on calling him Mr. Kamski. Professional distance was still important to her. But less and less so as the weeks wore on. 

When they launched the first AI test, successfully making answer several questions and making it respond to complex scenarios, he grabbed her waist and spun her around in the air. They collapsed into each other, giggling and delirious with exhaustion and the warm glow of success.

 **October~**

Halloween night was the first time Elijah asked her if she wanted to be his partner in the company. His logic was that she’d contributed just as much as he had, if not more, as it was because of her that the androids had so much personality.

She agreed. That was the first time he kissed her.

 **November~**

There were plans being made for the release of the first android when they contacted her. A man in a pinstripe suit cornered her on her way home, accusing her of ‘distracting his protégé.’ She told him that she had no idea what he was talking about and headed home.

But they kept in contact, threats that were becoming increasingly violent. She didn’t say anything to Elijah, but felt the need to distance herself from him, perhaps it was better this way. She knew it was hurting him, but she wasn’t about to say anything that would jeopardize the future of the company they’d both worked so hard to build.

**December~**

The night she found _it_ she broke down and confessed everything to Elijah, all the threats, all the horrible promises, and why she thought she had to stay away. Elijah held her and kissed her and told her everything would be alright, that they’d go to the police and figure something out. 

But he was lying because two weeks later, her body was found in a river, cold and stiff. Dead.

**March 3rd, 2039~**

Elijah Kamski sat at his desk, slowly sipping his tea. An old, ugly panic had reared up in his heart when the RT600 model-when Chloe hadn’t come back since the night she’d told him that she had nowhere else to go. 

He dismissed that. Clearly she did, she wasn’t here now. She would always leave him in the end, it seemed. 

Kamski took another sip of his tea and turned to his schedule. It looked like he had a meeting with Cyberlife’s old protégé. This should be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will I ever stop turning everything into a cheesy romance novel? Naaaah.


	8. Reality

**March 5th, 2039~**

Considering they wouldn’t get an audience with Kamski for another week, and Connor’s head felt like a wrung our dish rag, he figured a distraction of sorts was in order. That distraction presented itself in the form of Detective Gavin Reed, newly dubbed ‘that one guy that wasn’t an android until two days ago and was actually quite racist towards other androids until right this moment.’ Or anyway, that’s what Tina called him. Tina, Chris, and Connor had all agreed to keep Gavin’s secret, at least until they could figure out what was going on. And considering Gavin was quite adamant that he did have memories prior to being an adult it seemed like there was definitely some underlying problems. 

In the meantime, Connor had stepped in to help Gavin with a few of the technical parts of being an android, mainly how to monitor his thirium levels and preventing unwanted glitches in his system. It was actually a perfect distraction, because Gavin was not exactly a…’natural.’

**March 6th, 2039~**

“This is bullshit!” Gavin exclaimed for about the fifth time as he retracted his hand from Connor’s. The two were currently seated on the floor of Hank’s living room. One condition for Connor’s help, was that Hank get to know. He didn’t like keeping things from the closest person to him. After a mild panic attack and some grumbling about ‘why would you even want to help this asshole,’ Hank agreed to stay quiet. “How am I supposed to ‘block off my brain’ when I can’t even get my skin to disappear?! Christ that sounded fucking insane.”

“You need to stop focusing so hard.” Connor snapped. Sure, he may not be the best teacher but he was pretty sure Reed was just being difficult to spite him. “It’s a natural action. Just raise your hand and focus on the machinery underneath it. Try again.” Gavin did, staring at his hand so hard it seemed like he was going to burn a hole in it, and once again, nothing happened. It seemed the only time he could allow himself to interface was when he was actively making contact with another android.

“What if I can’t do it? You know? We’re like…different models or whatever.” Gavin groaned, flopping down on his back.

“All androids can interface.” Connor replied, though if he was completely honest, he wasn’t sure about Gavin. He seemed to be completely out of touch with any and all of his mechanisms. He didn’t have a mind palace, or at least couldn’t access it, he couldn’t see his own stress levels, and couldnt stand the environment. At first Connor had assumed it was because he’d just gone a while without using those functions, but he was at loathe to admit the man had a point. 

“Here. I’ll show you how it feels.” He said finally, taking Gavin’s hand. Easily, the synthetic flesh melted a way. Connor channeled a memory of the first time he was activated, using the start up protocol to explain the feeling. He pulled away and Gavin’s eyes were wide, pupils still slightly displayed. “Can you try it now?” Connor asked, Gavin held his hand up again. Nothing. 

“This is bullshit.” Gavin repeated, with a little less venom this time.

“You can take a break if you want.” Connor said idly, teaching for Sumo, who had been dutifully watching them the whole time.

“Fuck yeah.” Gavin muttered, and rolled into his side. There was peace for a moment, as Connor leaned his head back on the couch and enjoyed the dogs company. “Hey Connor?” Gavin said after a moment. 

“Hmm?” 

“Do you think…” Connor glanced over at Gavin. He’d gone still, his arms wrapped around his chest, hugging himself. “Never mind.” Connor said nothing, sending that it was best not to push the man. “Connor, I had a family. I can remember them, clear as day. I remember the address of my childhood home. I had a brother, did you know that?” He was quiet again, though he’d turned to look at Connor. His nose was scrunched up and his voice sounded thick, as if he were about to cry. “Are they even real? Is anything I remember real?” 

“I don’t know.” Connor replied softly. “I’m sorry, I don’t know.” He didn’t point out that problem could be easily rectified by just looking up his parent’s names. They lapsed into a heavy silence until Gavin’s hand found Connor’s. Not to interface, just for comfort. And Connor didn’t let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m still half and half on wether I should leave all the convin implied or just go fully at it.


	9. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love reading everyone’s theories in the comments, honestly it just makes my day.

Nowadays it wasn’t uncommon for Hank to walk into his living room and see Connor and Gavin seated on the floor across from each other, doing…android training? According to Connor, no progress had been made thus far but he was optimistic. Hank, however, had a suspicion that it wasn’t just optimism when he walked home one day to find them curled up with each other, asleep on the couch, some random movie blaring on the TV. 

**March 12th, 2039~**

Hank’s car was just barely big enough for three people, poor Chloe had to squeeze herself into the back seat, next to bags of dog food and old assorted magazines. Connor had offered for her to sit in the front seat for the long drive to Kamski’s mansion, but she had declined, saying that as an older model who didn’t feel temperature, she wouldn’t be bothered by staying in the back where the heater couldn’t reach, like Connor or Hank would.

For some reason, driving up to Kamski’s place was a lot more intimidating than it was last time. Connor chalked it up to his newfound emotions making him anxious about the case. Still, he felt dwarfed by the size of the place. Hank noticed his discomfort, however, and gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. “He can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do kid.” Connor nodded shakily, as they proceeded to the front door.

Connor wasn’t sure who he expected to open the door; another Chloe, maybe some other new receptionist, perhaps even Kamski himself. But the door swung open to the sitting room. It was empty. 

“Well, uh…guess that’s our cue.” Hank shrugged, heading forward. Connor took a step into the building when he realized Chloe was hanging back, her hands balled up into fists at her sides. 

“We won’t let him hurt you.” Connor said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked up with wide eyes.

“It’s not me I’m worried about.” Those words chilled Connor, and as Chloe stepped forward, he stayed behind watching her recede into the house, before finally following her. The house was cold, and silent. Their footsteps echoed, the sounds multiplied by the hard marble flooring. At the end of the Hall was the man of the century himself. 

“Hank, Connor.” He said, grinning, clapping Hank on the shoulder like they were old friends. Over Connor’s shoulder, he spotted the third member of their group. “Chloe.” His voice nearly dropped an octave, sounding cold and foreboding. “To what do I owe the pleasure.” 

“We have some questions for you.” Connor replied.

“You always do. Come, come. I’ll get everyone some tea.” He strode deeper into the hallway, and despite every instinct of Connor’s begging him not to follow Kamski, he did. Kamski led them into yet another sitting room, with several couches arranged around a small table with a teakettle and several cups. Hank took a seat first, pulling out his notebook, where they’d written the questions for Kamski. Connor took a seat next to Hank and Chloe followed after him, still fidgety and very uncomfortable. 

“So, uh, under this guy’s house, they found a basement, sort of constructed like an underground laboratory, it seemed to have an affiliation with Cyberlife. Here’s the adress.” Hank pushed a piece of paper across the table. “Would you happen to know anything about that?”

“Hm. No. Can’t help you.” Kamski replied, smiling wolfishly. 

“Mr. Kamski, please-“ Connor began.

“Hey, if I don’t know anything, I don’t know anything. Next.” 

“This girl over here.” Hank said with barely concealed anger, gesturing to Chloe, “claims she found a picture of her in your home, when she’d never gotten her picture taken.” 

Kamski froze, his hand reaching for his tea and then retracting. When he spoke it was soft, quiet. “No. I don’t know anything about that.” Chloe stood up abruptly.

“Elijah, stop.” Her voice was surprisingly confident. “This needs to stop, all of this. All the secrets, the lies, all of it. Just stop! Tell us the truth.” Kamski rolled his eyes.

“It’s a nasty world out there. Eats up little girls like you.” Chloe flushed, furiously.

“Well, whoever that girl is in the picture, she’s me! Or at least, was me. I deserve to know who I am!” Kamski’s head snapped up, his eyes were burning with something malicious and dangerous. 

Elijah stood as well, side stepping the table until they were standing practically chest to chest. Connor could see Chloe’s stress levels, they were rocketing around 85%. Hank shot up and got in between them.

“Ok, ok. Let’s calm down.” He tried, but Elijah wasn’t listening to him. 

“How. Dare. You.” Elijah snarled. “How _dare_ you stand where she stood!” His voice was raised; he was shouting now. “You have no right to tell me that, you are not her!” He stopped abruptly, breathing hard and turned away, seeming to get a hold of himself. 

“How do you know?!” Chloe replied, her voice shrill. “I don’t even know who she is!” She laughed, a little hysterically. 

“WELL IT DOESN’T MATTER BECAUSE SHE’S FUCKING DEAD!” Kamski screamed. The three of them fell silent. “Yeah. She’s dead. Missing person incident from 2021, I’m sure you heard of that Hank. Her body was found in a river and do you know what I had to do?” He was breathing erratically, and Connor could see that his heart rate was accelerated past normal levels. “I had to go and make a plastic clone; that was already the plan but she was supposed to be _here._ ” He slumped onto the couch, burying his head in his hands. “And you know, I thought-I thought maybe it would be ok. Cause you’ve all deviated. Maybe I wouldn’t have to see my mistake every. single. fucking. day. But nooooo. You had to stay. Why? Does the universe truly hate me that much?” He laughed without humor. 

“Elijah.” Chloe said softly.

“Don’t. _Please_ don’t.” He began to pace, running his hands through his hair. “This is all my fault anyway, here-“ He leaned down to Hank’s paper and scribbled a few random letters and numbers on it. “The password for the Cyberlife security database. If you get yourself fucking killed, it’s not my fault. Now get the fuck out of my house.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kamski’s really emo, ngl


	10. Damned

**March 12th, 2039~**

Chloe was shaken, to say the least. She was currently sitting in the car looking up everything she could find about Chloe Macintyre. Apparently, she was an only child, orphaned at birth and raised by her uncle who died when she turned 18. After college, she was Elijah Kamski’s personal assistant, (and speculated to be his lover, by certain news sites) set to be the companies co-owner before her mysterious disappearance in 2021. It claimed her body was never found. 

“Hey, you gotta stop looking at that stuff.” Hank said suddenly, grabbing the tablet away from her, earning an indignant ‘hey!’

“It’s like he said,” Connor said softly. “You’re not her. You’re your own person, and looking at that stuff will only drive you crazy.” 

“I know.” Chloe said, shaken. “I just…I’m just a little confused that’s all.”

“It’s understandable.” Connor said, patting her shoulder. “I have a friend who’s going through something…confusing right now as well. You’re going to be okay.”

“Is there anywhere we can drop you off or do you need a place to stay?” Hank asked.

“I’ve been staying at an android shelter for the past week with some other Chloe models.” Chloe replied softly. “It’s run by Jericho. It’s actually quite nice.” 

They dropped her off where she was greeted enthusiastically by two other androids.

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Connor asked.

“Yeah.” Hank said. “She’ll be even better once we figure this shit out.”

Connor took out the paper. “So, Cyberlife security database…I have the address. Shall we investigate?”

“Not right now, kid. It’s like twelve o’clock. We can just head home. Ok?”

Connor nodded reluctantly, as he kept his eyes on Chloe receding into the house.

The car pulled back into Hank’s driveway, and Hank claimed it was too late to eat and he was going straight to bed. Connor sat alone in the silent house, staring at Sumo, who was sleeping peacefully. He was going there tonight.

Connor was glad that Hank had taught him how to drive, and he was also very glad that he knew where Hank kept the keys. The drive to Cyberlife headquarters was nostalgic, as Connor remembered the last time he’d been there was to literally lead an army to bring the corporation down. The man at the security desk seemed to recognize Connor even without his LED showing, and easily waved him through.

He looked up the room in the directory and headed for the security data base. It was a surprisingly old looking computer, sat in the corner of the room. There also weren’t many security cameras. When he reached the computer, he saw why. Interfacing was nearly impossible, the computer was heavily encrypted and not even connected to the internet. Only with the random string of numbers Kamski had given him was he able to open the computer.

Almost instantly, Connor was flooded with information. It was almost hard to process it all.

**Subject: Eliminating Distractions**

**Elijah Kamski’s current distraction needs to be dealt with. Planned elimination route: suicide**

**Subject: Desceased Facial Reconstruction**

**Clients have stated that their androids fall into a bit of an uncanny valley. The faces are plastic an unnerving. However, in the case of the RT600 model, there has been much positive feedback. We believe this is due to the nature of it’s creation. For the sake of increasing profits, we will be continuing this line of facial reconstruction from desceaced individuals.**

**Subject: Deviant Experiment**

**Deviancy is becoming difficult to isolate due to the nature of androids. We suggest creating a model with false human memories, to better isolate the data. This android will be integrated with human society and monitored closely under the alias ‘Gavin Reed.’ Kamski has offered some resistance to this. We must consider alternative methods of convincing.**

**Subject: RK800 Model Facial Reconstruction**

**We believe that there are unique challenges being presented when attempting to integrate the deviant RK800 model with Lieutenant Hank Anderson. For optimal integration purposes, we will be using the facial map of the late Cole Anderson.**

“I’m sorry, I can’t let you leave.” A soft voice said. Connor whipped around, still dizzy with the sudden influx of information. A woman in a lab coat was standing in front of him holding a gun. She was relaxed, almost bored, leaning against the door frame. “We knew once Kamski’s old basement was discovered it would only be a matter of time before you all started poking your noses around where they didn’t belong.”

“You use…dead people’s likeness on androids?” Connor choked out, mind still spinning with the implication of what he’d learned. 

“Now now, Connor. This isn’t a big deal. No one needs to know! Think about all the _peace_ there is right now! How will people react when they learn their loved ones are walking among them? How will Hank feel? Do you really think he’ll be ok with you masquerading around with his dead son’s face?” 

“You had no right to do this!” Connor wheezed, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. The woman’s face hardened. 

“It was for the sake of progress. And we made progress! That’s the way it is whether you like it or not. But you don’t have to live with this pain! You can choose to forget this, and walk out of here! Everything can go back to the way it was. Don’t you want that? Aren’t you happy?” 

“I-“ Connor was shaking, his stress levels were at 95% when all of a sudden the woman’s face slackened in shock and she fell forward. Hank stood behind her looking a little surprised she’d passed out so easily.

“I should have known you’d go out. Can’t you just wait till morning?” He joked, apparently not hearing what the woman had said. “What was up with her?” 

“Oh god.” Connor gasped sinking to the ground, head in his hands. “Oh my god.”

“Son, what's wrong?” Hank asked, kneeling before him.

“We need to get out of here, now. And somehow get this information out to the public.” Connor said, standing abruptly.

“Woah, woah, what information? Connor what’s going on?” 

“Hank-I’m…I-I can’t. Not right now Okay? But I have a lot to tell you.”


	11. Hate

**March 13th, 2039~**

When Connor and Hank got home, Connor, stricken with grief and shock, went straight to his bedroom, managing to close the door before breaking down. He knew he should go outside, but he just couldn’t stand the thought of Hank looking at him differently. 

He sent a report to Fowler. Connor, always completing his mission. Major news sites picked up on the story, and it spread like wildfire. Within a few hours, everyone knew the truth about Cyberlife. Connor didn’t move the whole time, monitoring the situation on his tablet. He got a call from someone, he hung up. Than half an hour later, another, which he ignored. That was when someone knocked on Connor’s door, loud and insistent. Connor’s head shot up, it was going to be Hank. He was going to tell Connor he hated him, it was all over. But the door cracked open slowly, and there was Gavin, smiling sadly at him. Connor didn’t even think twice before practically throwing himself into Gavin’s arms. 

Gavin didn’t say anything and Connor didn’t even ask how he’d gotten into the house, he was just glad someone was here who might have some understanding of how he felt. 

“Where’s Hank?” Connor whispered after a second, raising his head from where it had been buried in Gavin’s shoulder. 

“I don’t know. I came here as soon as the news was released, but he wasn’t here. I tried to call you, you didn’t answer, so I decided to let myself in. Your window’s broken in the kitchen, did you know that?” Connor laughed rather hysterically and cling to Gavin.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t be so emotional. You-you’re-“

“The original deviant, I know. Kinda fuckin weird.” He sighed, resting his chin on Connor’s head. “This is kind of fucked up.” 

“Mhm.” Connor groaned, trying very hard to make the world disappear.

“You can stay with me. You know, if you want. Until you can talk to Hank and this all calms down.”

“Shit! Hank! Where is he!” Connor cried, pushing Gavin away. 

“I don’t know? We can look for him.” Gavin offered. 

“No…no I think I know. I’m going to go get him. You don’t have to come with me.” He added with a glance over his shoulder.

“No, no I’m coming.” Gavin said, shrugging. Gavin’s car was in the driveway and the cardboard Hank had put over the kitchen window was scattered on the lawn.

“You weren’t kidding, huh.” Connor said.

“I was worried, dipshit.” Gavin growled, but there was no malice in his voice. They drove in silence, before they finally came to the bridge Connor suspected Hank would be at. Connor could remember it clear as day. The swirling snow, the alcohol, the gun pointed at his forehead. But now, Connor had no fear that Hank would hurt him. He was sitting on the same bench, no gun in his hand, looking defeated. “I’ll let you two talk.” Gavin said softly. Connor smiled, gratefully, and stepped out of the car.

“Hank. I-uh…I thought I might find you here.” Connor called, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Hank didn’t look at him, in fact he turned his body away so he wouldn’t have to look at Connor. 

“Why are you here?” Hank spat out. There was so much disgust in his voice, so much more than when he had hated androids.

“Because we need to talk.” Connor managed.

“‘Bout what? What do you want me to say? That nothing’s changed? That I don’t hate looking at you? That I’m not hating myself for not _seeing?_ They stole my _son_.” He whispered, voice breaking. “I know what you want me to say, but here’s what I’m going to say. I don’t hate _you_ but I just…can’t do this right now. Maybe not ever. I understand why you didn’t tell me, though I honestly kind of wish you had. Would’ve been better from you than some news site.” He finushed bitterly. “So please, just give me some time.” 

“I-I will respect your wishes.” Connor was sure he was choking. Something was stopping his words from coming out. “I’m-I’m _so so sorry_.” Connor just couldn’t understand the sensation until he felt warm, wetness on his cheeks. He was crying. Ashamed, he fled back to Gavin’s car. “Can we go now?” He said urgently.

“To where?”

“Anywhere. I don’t care.” 

Gavin took Connor’s hand, and the car sped away.


	12. Them

**December 23rd, 2021~**

Now Chloe had a more artistically inclined mind, (not that she believed anyone with a sane mind could understand Kamski’s ramblings) but from what she could see…this diagram didn’t seem to be nothing. It was something. Something…very, very wrong. _Desceased Facial Reconstruction._ Were they…using the faces of dead people? 

Chloe’s hands tightened around the paper, as she resisted the urge to call out to Mr. Kamski (Elijah). She suddenly got the feeling that every child got when they were doing something that they knew their parent wouldn’t approve of. These strange blueprints weren’t for her eyes, and they chilled her to her very core. If these truly weren’t important, as Elijah had said, than she needed to destroy them. She crumbled them up in the palm of her hand, as small as they would go, regretting that her dress didn’t have pockets. She knew it was an impulsive decision she was making, but she’d never been one to think things out. Clenching her fists by her sides, she walked quickly out of the study. And bumped immediately into Elijah. “M-mr. Kamski!” She yelped, hating how her voice caught. She straightened herself, trying to look a little less guilty. “Elijah.” He corrected. “I just need to grab something from the study.” He said, lightly, breezing past her. Chloe’s eyes followed him as he left, a sinking feeling in her stomach. She needed to move, but her legs were frozen. Suddenly, from the study, Elijah’s voice rang out. “Chloe, could you come in here? We need to talk.”

“Sure, Elijah.” He was standing in his study, and when she came in, his face brightened. 

“You called me Elijah.” He sounded so happy, she nearly confessed everything right then and there. 

“Of course I did, you told me to.” 

“Chloe…you seem tense. Is something wrong?” It all came bursting out of her. She told him about the papers she found, about the threats, and how scared she was and she didn’t even realize she was crying until he wiped away her tears and pulled her into an embrace. “Breathe, breathe.” He insisted. “Okay, okay, so, people from Cyberlife are making these threats?” Chloe nodded, shakily. “Okay, we’ll report them to the police. Everything’s going to be okay.” He led her to a chair and sat her down in it, taking her hands. “The blueprints were just some dumb idea I had Okay? I’ll throw them away, if it bothers you that much.” 

“How could it not bother me?” She mumbled squeezing his hands. “I’m sorry, I should have told you.”

“No, no, no. This isn’t your fault. It’s not, I promise.” 

“Okay.” Chloe mumbled in a small voice, sliding of the chair and tucking herself into his lap. 

“It’s going to be okay. We’re okay. I won’t let anything happen, I promise.”

**March 15th, 2039~**

Kamski didn’t know why Chloe came back. Everything was out in the open, she had nothing to gain from hanging around him. When she set her suitcase down, she announced she was staying. 

“Why?” He replied dryly, raising an eyebrow. 

“Because I care about you. I’m not Chloe Macintyre, but I am Chloe. And I can’t stand to see you waste away because you’re guilty about something some maniacs in your company did.” When she moved to hug him, he didn’t pull away.


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I posted three chapters today. You can judge me later.

**May 3rd, 2039~**

“Nooooooooo.” Connor smiled slightly, as his boyfriend tightened his grip around his waist. 

“Come on, Gavin. We have to get up at some point, I know for a fact that you’re completely charged.” 

“Well maybe I don’t wanna be.” Gavin mumbled, sleepily propping himself up and trailing little kisses down Connor’s shoulder. “Maybe I just wanna fuckin’ sleep.” Connor rolled his eyes fondly and pressed a kiss to Gavin’s forehead. Gavin caught his face and pulled him down, kissing him deeply and smirking slightly when Connor pulled back, flushing. He leaned forward and-

“God Damnit, fucking cat.” Gavin snarled, pushing it away. Connor laughed, picking the cat up and depositing it on the floor.

“I’m going to get up now.” Gavin mumbled something unintelligible and rolled over. With a small smile, Connor got up planning on going to the grocery store. As it turned out, Mr. Android Gavin could and needed to eat. 

Almost a month after the information about Cyberlife had been made public, things were finally settling down. Families who wished to tracked down their loved ones-turned-androids, and so many lawsuits had been made about the company that they had to completely shut down. 

Elijah Kamski had been questioned about it but it turned out that he was a very good liar and was able or convince the press that the only thing he knew about was the basement under what was once his childhood home. He didn’t even get in trouble for zoning laws because back when the house was built, there was no law against having a basement there. He was so persuasive, he was even able to reaquire the rights to Cyberlife, turning it into a company that created products for androids, along with his business partner, the original RT600 model, Chloe.

Connor respected Hank’s wishes, and hadn’t attempted to contact him. They saw each other at work and it was tense. Hank still had trouble looking at him, and it hurt every time. But Connor was glad to see he at least hadn’t slipped into his old self destructive habits again. 

On that particular day as Connor headed to the grocery store, an older woman in the line kept giving him strange looks. It was only a few moments later that he realized she was Josephine Anderson, Hank’s ex-wife and his…mother? 

He tried not to think in terms of being ‘Cole.’ Because he knew he wasn’t. Gavin helped him with that. As someone who had gone through lots of personal identidy crises, Gavin was always there to remind Connor that he was his own person and he was loved by so many people. 

**March 4th, 2039~**

Gavin stumbled into the kitchen, still half asleep. Connor was standing at the kitchen counter, setting breakfast. God, how was he awake? It was only 10 o’clock in the morning.

“Hey, babe there’s a call for you. Woke me up.” He mumbled, hugging Connor from behind. 

“Mm. I’m sorry.” Connor said, smiling slightly. “Maybe you should consider getting up earlier.”

“Never.” Gavin grumbled as Connor plucked the phone from his hand. It was a voicemail.

_“Son, I’m leaving this here because…I don’t know. I guess because I’m too tired and too cowardly to say it in person. But whatever you may look like…you’re still wonderful, and I’m so proud to know you. Sumo needs a walk later if you want to stop by and help an old man out.”_

“What’s wrong?” Gavin asked in alarm, seeing Connor suddenly tear up.

“I have plans for this afternoon.” Connor said, beaming through his tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot woot it’s done biches. This is the longest thing I’ve ever written without abandoning, pat me on the back. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, I can’t write endings for shit, but I added lotsa domestic fluff so yeah at least there’s that.


End file.
